Late
at night, he hears the songlines:
nocturnes
for two pianos wrestle
in
the oceanic stillness of the studio.
Without
name, they come unbidden
to
chase the varied moods of evening.
But
the sound of evening has changed
livelihoods,
and the color of its dreams
is
trapped in the engine of this century—
In
the mechanics of the siren call, white noise,
and
the evolution of light—
Where
are the elemental songlines
when
whales no longer hear the melody?
Camera
obscura:
What
exists before the film is developed?
A
young child, at seven,
before
the piano,
confronts
the black notes—
The
teacher metronoming:
The
fingers need to remember the melody.
Over
wine & chocolate we discuss Chopin’s nocturnes.
Night's
lost notes scoring the darkness.
Liquid
music pours from his fingers.
He
learns anew: You don’t choose the music;
it
chooses you. We listen for the
étude,
words
undressing the muse.
February 18, 1994
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